Revenge: The Life and Times of Inigo Montoya
by northern.grunge
Summary: October 8th Addition O.O! Please read and review. What would The Princess Bride look like from Inigo's POV? Want an explaination to the unexplanded Inigo part? Contains blood, romance nothing bad. Back in-progress! Now I know where going ;
1. How's The Sicke?

**New and Improved September First Addition **

"Ma!" The girl cried out from her large bedroom.

"I don't feel good!" She whined.

"I can't go to school today!" Betty sighed and put down the book she was reading. She peeled off her reading glasses, got up and went into her daughter's green and pink bedroom. Betty sighed and lifted back her fourteen-year-old's light red hair placing a hand on her forehead.

"You have a fever. And of course it would be on a testing day" Betty rolled her eyes.

"Well no matter… I have a book for just such occasion!"

Betty's daughter huffed at the word "book". Her mother always had a book for any occasion.

"The British are coming!"

"I have a book for that!"

"The sink won't work"

"I have a book for that!"

"I'm tired of reading…"

"I have a book for that." It was a wonder her mother wasn't a librarian. Though she visited often

"I can't read ma, I don't feel well."

"I know honey that's why I'm going to read it to you!"

"I think I'm much too old for a bed-time story" She replied sarcastically between a cough, she was four teen after all.

"Oh this is far from a bed-time story…" Betty had a twinkle in her eyes as she stepped out of the room leaving her daughter to stare after her like an insane person. She picked up a well thumbed-through copy of her favorite book of all time and her thin rimmed reading glasses. Betty sat down on a chair next to her sick daughter's bed. She tied up the loose strands of her auburn hair in a rubber band and flicked on her glasses.

Smiling like crazy now she flipped open the book. Betty had read the book hundreds of times and loved it even more each new time she read it. But over the years her fetish for a certain character led her to abridge it of sorts as apparently Goldman had done himself to the very dry, very long original. Her daughter would not yet hear William Goldman's classic version but her own mother's version. She began to read, mostly from the pieces of paper she had scribbled on herself. She looked at the pages but barely had to read any of the words, they were basically memorized…

_The year that Buttercup was born, the most beautiful woman in the world was-_

"Mom, you can't be serious… you mean to tell me you're going to spend your whole day here reading this novel about a flower and beautiful women to me? Perhaps it would be kinder of you to grab a pan from the kitchen and knock me out right now!" Betty narrowed her eyes at her naive daughter but kept her patience.

"Now as I was saying…

_-a French scullery maid named Annette, but the way I see it, this book is not about Annette, or the most beautiful woman in the world, or even Buttercup in fact. It is about a handsome and daring, loveable, skinny Spaniard named Inigo Montoya…_


	2. The Scars

**New and Improved September First Addition **

_**Author's note: I did quote some from the book directly. The reason for this is that I don't want to change his words around too much so I'm not… but I will have you know that I am not Goldman or claim to be or want to steal his glory. Nope, so his words are in bold and mine are not. Methods to the madness… **_

**In the mountains of Central Spain, set high in the hills above Toledo, was the village of Arabella. It was very small and the air was always clear. That was all you could say that was good about Arabella: terrific air- you could see for miles.**

But perhaps the best two things to ever enter the world of fencing came from the homely hills of Arabella. The first to come was the greatest sword maker, then later, the greatest fencer. Domingo Montoya was a fairly ugly man; he had a beautiful wife though, which explained his exceedingly good-looking son. Much to both of their dismay, Domingo's wife died while giving birth to this fantastic young lad.

"Inigo, dear Inigo. You are all that's left of your mother now." Domingo would say often to his son as he looked in Inigo's brown eyes that reminded Domingo so much of his love. Inigo grew into a fine child.

**As to Inigo's personal life, he was always a trifle hungry; he had no brothers or sisters. He was fantastically happy.**

**Because of his father. Domingo Montoya was funny-looking and crotchety and impatient and absent-minded and never smiled.**

**Inigo loved him. Totally. Don't ask why. There really wasn't any one reason you could put your finger on. Oh, probably Domingo loved him back, but love is many things, none of them logical.**

Domingo Montoya was a wonderful sword maker, the best, in fact. But no one knew it. Yeste, who happened to be a great friend of Domingo's, was always said to be the best. All the fencers knew the name Yeste but none knew that Domingo was actually the one Yeste would run to in his panicking times. Until one day, Inigo was nine, a man came to the door that had in deed heard of Domingo Montoya's greatness and Yeste's dependence on him.

This man, a nobleman apparently, was in search of a very incredible sword that was worth approximately 550 pieces of gold. The reason that he need such an amazing sword and had a terrible time finding one was this- the nobleman had an extra digit. Of course a six-fingered hand would have trouble with regular swords, either they would be too tight, off balance, impossible to grip, or a disastrous combination of the three.

Domingo accepted this request eagerly, the money he could care less about. All he ever wanted was a challenge. All Domingo ever dreamed of was creating a master piece of blade, so perfect, so difficult to make that it would keep him busy for at least year. That it did. Inigo at the age of nine knew that people must to at least 3 things to stay alive for long: eat, sleep, and breathe. Domingo only chose one. Sure he would breathe but eating and sleeping? Not a chance when such a great task as to make the six-fingered sword was at hand.

Inigo became worried. Every night he would wake to find Domingo working on his sword. Each day would be filled with the sound of hammering out the steel, the smell of the embers used in heating the metal. Inigo tried to get Domingo to eat but he never stopped, he never took a break either. Finally one night, one regular sleepless foodless night, Inigo awoke to his father staring with tired blood-shot eyes at the six-fingered sword. It was finished. It shone with glory and pride being the best sword ever created. Inigo was very exited to see his father's mission complete, now finally he might get some sleep.

Only a few days after Domingo's accomplishment the six-fingered nobleman returned for his master piece. What the two Montoya's didn't know was that the man had wasted his money on clothes and horses and didn't have left all that he was originally willing to pay. They also didn't know that he was not an honest man and if he didn't want to pay for something he certainly wasn't under any law that made him. Domingo, unaware of these crucial facts, gladly showed off his prized work. Then the words that shocked both Inigo and Domingo totally.

**"Not worth the wait."** The four words blew them over. Domingo was outraged and tried to convince the count of what a mistake he was making in tossing aside the greatest sword since Excalibur but the count was persistent, either lower the price or die. Domingo would not lower the price. Inigo watched from the house as the six-fingered man unsheathed his deadly sword. Watched, as it glinted like the eye of evil itself in the sun light and murdered his beloved father right before his eyes.

The noble man had killed his Domingo. Inigo's father was gone, lost forever. Inigo screamed with a horrific mix of terror, pain, and rage. People gathered at the sound that the boy, now ten, had uttered. The noble simply said he was defending himself and walked calmly back to his horse who was quite spooked. Inigo's rage had gotten the better of him as it reached up from his heart to his throat then into his mouth.

**"Coward!"** He yelled

**"Pig!"** He yelled again. But his courage soon left him as the count wheeled around to the young boy. Inigo grabbed the beautiful sword from his father's pale, cold hands and yelled once more. There was no turning back now.

**"Coward! Pig! KILLER!"** He spat the words out. The sword was truthfully a little more then he could handle but he held it strong and looked as menacing as he could manage. His eyes squinted against the rising sunlight, back straight, teeth clenched in pure hate. Inigo stopped the noble and challenged him to battle, not the cleverest thing a boy could do. The count sneered at him.

**"Get him out of my way. Move the infant."**

**"The infant is ten and he stays," Inigo said.**

**"Enough of your family is dead for one day; be content," said the noble.**

**"When you beg me for your breath, then I shall be contented. Now _dismount!"_**

**The nobleman dismounted.**

**"Draw your sword." The nobleman unsheathed his killing weapon.**

**"I dedicate your death to my father," Inigo said. "Begin"**

**They began.**

Inigo did not have a chance against a master, but he held his own… for a few seconds at least. The boy defended three of the man's attacks and even almost gave him a cut across the hand, but the man was a master and Inigo had never held a sword in his life. Lucky for Inigo, once he was disarmed the nobleman took uncharacteristic pity on him as he stood straight and unafraid, staring death in the face. Inigo felt nothing. He was too numb. He heard nothing because of the ringing in his ears. The last thing he felt that day was the sting of two long slices down his face. He still stood though. Tall as ever. Even as the world began leaving him he stood. But it wasn't long after the noble left when Inigo Montoya, age 10, fell.


	3. I Must Learn

**New and Improved September First Addition **

**Inigo awoke to Yeste's face.**

**"I was beaten," Inigo whispered. "I failed him."**

**Yeste could only say, "Sleep" Inigo slept. The bleeding stopped after a day and the pain stopped after a week.**

Inigo lived with Yeste for two years, but he had grown restless in his thirst for revenge. He cooked for the fat Yeste, he cleaned, and he polished his shoes. His sword was kept under his bed for safe keeping but it called to him everyday. Once in awhile he would start to reach under the bed to grab the hilt and just feel the power that radiated from it but he never could.

Yeste had just finished his meal when Inigo finally snapped. He rushed to the sword that was screaming his name and pulled it out from under the bed. The dishes left on the table and his father's fat friend sleeping in his bed Inigo wiped the dust from the blade and began to swish around the deadly weapon. He turned it over in his hands, although it was made for six fingers it seemed to fit his five fingered hand perfectly. Inigo looked at his reflection in the masterpiece of a blade, his face was handsome and thin hair fluffed to perfect. All he saw were the twin scars on his cheeks. Reminders of the battle almost two years ago now. He sighed and replaced the sword under his bed.

That very morning, Inigo was 12, he woke early and pinned a note to his pillow simply telling Yeste **"I must learn"** He left long before Yeste had time to wake up.

Inigo left to travel the world trying getting who ever he could get to teach him everything they knew about sword play, His searching was useless though until he became a bit older, a boy of 12 could not be trained to use a sword, or so these famous fencers thought.

Inigo had spent all his free time strengthening his body. He ran, dodged, skipped, made his wrists the strongest ever, made his body the quickest ever, and his sword continued to be the greatest ever. Some nights he would find himself wandering the streets, some nights in some kind person's house. However, all these nights he dreamed about someone to keep him company, to be specific a lady friend. Then all his days he would forget this lady friend and think only of avenging his father…


	4. The Blue Moon

**NEW CHAPTER!!**

Inigo had spent much of his time in Guilder, though it was one of the least populated places around. He enjoyed the crisp cool and the high altitude. He didn't know where he would go next. Searching Guilder for money proved useless, but he somehow always found a free stay at an inn. He particularly liked the one he was in now. The walls were simple wood and the sheets as scratchy as any other but the company was wonderful. The Blue Moon, it was called. The tavern below the rooms was usually deserted, it was run by two best friends who seemed to insist on being called wenches. Inigo never thought of it as a very flattering name but he obliged to their odd wishes. In return for his company they offered him free stay. He would come down to the tavern and socialize with the few people who frequented there, the wenches would flirt, he would end up helping them wash plates and scare of the occasional too-drunk-to-walk-much-less-keep-my-clothes-on who would wander around.

He stayed at the Blue Moon for almost two months, searching for someone who would have seen or heard of a man with an extra digit walking around. No such luck, until one night. Most of the customers had left; the wenches had fallen into over tired slumber draped over each other in a booth. Inigo was collecting the tip from two men and a woman who had hurriedly finished their meal and ale when he heard it. "The count at Florin is some messed up man", "I heard he was born with a defect that made him bitter against the world." Said the woman. Inigo hated the feeling of eaves dropping but as he took in this information he remembered the man he was looking for had fit these descriptions right? Maybe not exactly… and they were just rumors after all… but the possibility hung heavy in the air. He had never been to Florin.

At once it clicked. He could taste revenge already, perhaps much too early to tell but Inigo was living on hope after all. The party left, leaving Inigo wishing he asked them about this count. He couldn't stand still, he rushed over to the wenches, the drooled on the booth and each other. He would miss their company and comical ways. He shook them by the shoulder to wake them.

"Get the heck of off that table!" One yelled, her eyes still closed

"I'll take care of it…" The other mumbled. Then from both, a snore.

"Wake up!" Inigo shouted in their ears perhaps a little too loud. They jerked upright and almost knocked him into the wooden table behind him. The looked around sleepily, the red haired one squinted at him.

"Inigo really what is it? We were dead asleep!"

"Sorry Nan, go back to sleep" Kara, the blond one spoke now.

"Oh come on, you must be jesting. You got us up now talk!"

"Fine fine" Inigo pulled a chair from the nearby table and sat down. He really didn't want to leave, this had become his home, the wenches his sisters.

"Kara, Nan… I'm goin' to Florin. To find the six-fingered man" He paused " I'm gonna miss you wenches" They raised their eyebrows as if synchronized.

"It's far to late to go now spend some money" Kara replied

"Spend the night, Kara, we want him to spend the night!" Nan was much more awake then her counterpart.

"Yeah what she said." Kara yawned and slumped back ward against the wall. Nan stood up with Inigo's offered hand and started up the creaking steps to her bedroom. Inigo sighed loudly as he looked at the blond out cold. He picked her up and she moaned and turned her head but then snuggled into his chest and fell into deeper sleep. He carried her up the steps into her room and laid her on the bed. Then finaly to his own room. He spent the night planning how he would get to Florin. He had barely enough gold to afford a boat, none at all for a place to stay and at only sixteen he couldn't easily find a job.

The morning he left the wenches had closed the Blue Moon for the day to see him off. The three stood at the dock together. They had found a boat captained by a scrawny man who was old enough to be Inigo's great grandfather, but at least he was willing to take Inigo to Florin, no money involved, only deck work.

"Goodbye loves" Inigo kissed Nan and Kara and with regret, walked onto the boat.

"Good luck Inigo!" They chorused as the boat left dock. His sword at his side, a wet and soapy rag in his hand, and the world ahead of him he felt invincible… He stood at the front of the ship with the wind blowing through his curly hair. He was young, free, strong, and had a goal in sight. This lasted all of two minutes before the scruffy ol' sea dog, Cap'n Trout as he liked to be called, ordered him to scrub the decks.


	5. True Love

**New and Improved September 28th Addition !! ( Much more Inigo love . )**

The darkened sky threatened to break loose with a storm. But the storm to come was nothing compared to the storm that was going on inside one, young, lonely sixteen year old Spaniard. Inigo slept for a few minutes at a time but the rain began to fall now making it impossible for the boy to stay dry. He grabbed the thin sheet that he had found on the street and placed it over his head. He closed his eyes once again but all he saw was his father falling at the sword of the very un-noble nobleman. He shut his eyes tighter but that only made the images clearer so he flicked them open. His body weary from walking hundreds of miles to try to find someone to teach him swordplay, his mind from trying to push away the image of that awful day, and his heart was full to the brim with emptiness.

Giulietta had no time for rest. She walked and broke into a jog every once in awhile. She didn't care how hard the rain pounded down on her she would continue until she was far away from the castle. Her brown-black hair rested on her shoulders, heavy from the rain water that consumed it. The rain allowed her to think clearer, even if her ability to see wasn't as clear.

Her father, last she knew, was in his room plotting up some great contraption that she couldn't even fathom. Her mother, she imagined, was already asleep in her silken ruby nightgown, a gift from her father. Giulietta had been feeling more alone then ever. Her mother had not been involved in her life at all. The only thing she ever remembered her mother teaching her was to journal. Giulietta kept her journal close to her in her corset. She had respected the use of a journal, writing down her every thought. She loved her mother very much but her real mother was Nanny March. March was strict but calm and understanding. Giulietta regretted leaving Nanny without a word but she couldn't take it anymore.

A girl of only fifteen, she had never been surer she was doing the right thing by going of on her own. Something or someone was calling to her and she could feel it. She thirsted for an ounce of adventure, a change in the routine life, even possibly love. So she walked the empty, sopping wet back streets; tickles of fear pricking her back as she could barely see a thing. She began to jog again for she thought she heard footsteps but as she slowed she found it was only her imagination. But the fact that she felt like she was falling was not her imagination. The cold wet stone hit the side of her face before she realized, she had tripped on her gown and hot, sticky blood was surrounding her head.

Inigo had not dared close his eyes any longer. He was very aware of his surroundings by now. He heard footsteps somewhere on the small cobbled road. Who would be dumb enough to be on the streets in this weather! Oh yeah… me He thought trying to smile a bit at his weak attempt at humor. But smiling was the last thing he could do. The footsteps stopped suddenly; interested now he uncovered his head to peer out. A black shape was on the ground a few blocks down the road. He sighed at his ever present curiosity and slowly got up; clenching the sword at his side. He stalked over to the figure on the ground, realizing now that it was a person… a girl. Gaining confidence he scanned the alley and walked faster, then more urgently as he saw that she was hurt. He bent down beside the figure and gently wiped away some of the dark hair plastered to her beautiful face. Knowing that the middle of a road is not the safest place to be lying on, he picked her up carried her to where he had a makeshift bed. It was simply some bundles of loose hay that Inigo had found while wandering the streets. He laid her down and took a look at the large gash on the side of her face.

"Now how'd you ge' that young lass?" He muttered. Inigo ripped off a bit of the sheet he was using for cover and blotted the blood off her face. The rain water made this task easier and to his surprise; her eyes fluttered a bit, then opened wide and full of fear

"Who are you? Please don't hurt me I'm just on my way home and I slipped and…" She lied. Inigo was taken aback by the sudden string of words and tears.

"Slow down… I jus' was getin' you off the street that's all miss. I'll be glad to walk you home." He smiled in the most sincere way he could manage but the pain from his father's death still held the corner's of his lips down.

"I-I uhh" She didn't know what to say. Might as well come clean, he did save me after all and he doesn't look too sinister. He's so skinny in fact I could take him myself She thought with an air of royal pride not knowing how very wrong she was.

"I'm not going home" She confessed with a small sigh.

"Oh well then tha's too bad. It jus' so happens I'm no' going home either" It was then that Giulietta realized who her rescuer was, silky Spanish accent, beautiful brown eyes. He was someone who she had been looking for all her life, someone who wiggled into her dreams every night. The voice of her ever persistent caller.

"Oh I see… have you run away as well?" She asked in a slightly flirtatious voice. He obviously didn't pick it up though.

"No… no' particularly. Ahh now must I go into the whole long story? At leas' tell me your name" She could oblige to this, after all she was pretty sure she'd be here awhile.

"Giulietta; and yours?" She decided to leave off the last name; after all she couldn't let him know she was a royal.

"Inigo Montoya" He smiled now with some satisfaction.

"Now as you were saying... Inigo?" She swooned.

"Well yes, I have run away of sorts, but with every intention to return you see. My father was slaughtered …" Inigo told every detail to this young lady, from the scars on his face to the sword at his side, Giulietta felt like she had known him all her life now. She sat and listened intently relishing in the valor of his deeds since his father's death and even more so in the melted honey quality of his voice and even more then that his handsome looks and blade thin body. She would never admit it even to herself but that was the night she fell madly in love with a total stranger.

"And I do believe you 'ave some story to tell now." He finished, a glow in his brown Spanish eyes.

"Yes indeed I do. My father is… servant in the castle" She must stop this lying somewhere but she still could not bring herself to tell him that she was the daughter of a count. In fact she had suspected him of holding something back as well so this made it all alright. Didn't it?

"My mother and father were so busy they would never have time for me. So I changed all that yesterday and snuck out of the castle." Inigo had never heard of someone wanting to be poor and homeless without a good reason, her father and mother must have been cruel. To a point he was correct.

"Would you… umm… like to stay with me for tonigh'? I'm afraid all I can offer are these haystacks bu…" She cut him off.

"Wait, I have money for a room." She remembered and pulled out a cloth bag from a pocket in her casual gown. She wiped away a loose strand of sopping wet hair and held out the bag with jingling coins inside. Giulietta shivered at the thought of sharing a bed with Inigo. He looked at the beautiful lady in front of him and the full pouch of money she held, and finally thought things were looking up for him. They had both long forgotten that it was raining…

Inigo woke up from a wonderful night's sleep in a room above an alehouse. He had been with Giulietta for three years now and was very used to her company. In truth he had grown to love her (there are understatements and huge understatements; that Inigo simply loved her was a huge understatement) and he suspected she felt the same. Something though was different; he blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the light streaming in from the half-open window and searched the room. Not the slightest hint that anyone had been there other then himself. He was more then a little worried as he saw a note written on the table in shaky handwriting.

Inigo, my love, I'm so sorry I must leave you. I do so hope you avenge your father someday. I have left you some money… best wishes Giulietta 

Inigo didn't care about the money, he felt defeated. He sat on the old wooden chair beside the table and carefully folded her note as if not looking at it would make it not true, as if she would come dancing through the door with fresh picked flowers in her hair. He found one last thing of hers lying on the table, a journal. Proof that she wasn't a ghost who followed him around for three years. He flipped open the simply decorated book. It felt like a huge invasion of privacy but he couldn't help it. He flipped to the last entry, it was written three days ago. In the fold of the book a ragged ripped edge, she had torn away the last few entries. What had she written that he could not read? Did she love another? Had she had… relations with another?

None of this sunk in, once more he was in despair… the state not the place.


	6. The Brandy

**New and Improved October First Addition!! **

Inigo collapsed on the bed, his knees hitting the floor. He had lost the only two people he ever loved, ever would love. He slid to the ground, thinking for awhile. The night before they were in love, he never dreamed he would be alone again. He hadn't had the need for revenge then. The three years he spent with her they had tried to ignore the subject of his father's death. Giulietta never felt comfortable talking about it, she would tense and try to change the direction of conversation immediately. Now the urge to avenge was back. He remembered his dead father and the man who deserved death who had killed him. He tried to decide what to do next… he thought up a solution.

Of course a little wine here and there wasn't bad right? And he would only drink one glass. He hurried down the creaking steps to the ale house beneath the room he and Giulietta had stayed in and ordered some fine expensive wine. He emptied his pockets and found hardly any money.

An overly made up wench brought the glass (she made him miss Kara and Nan who were much more down-to-earth then this wench) Inigo thanked her and drank every drop of the wine before she had time to turn around. Knowing that if he kept buying expensive wine he would soon be out of money, next he ordered brandy, cheap, rough brandy. Inigo wanted to make this little bit of money he had left last forever. He wouldn't spend the money Giulietta had left. He sipped some and almost spit it back out because of the harsh taste. But he swallowed and took another, larger swig. Soon that too was gone. Inigo's money was on the table before he knew it and another bottle of brandy gone. He felt nothing anymore, remembered nothing, the great Inigo Montoya of Arabella Spain was now reduced to a mumbling, sword slashing, useless drunk. It was a dreadful sight to be sure…


	7. Hired

**New and Improved October First Addition **

The tavern was in an uproar. No place for a skinny Spaniard. He would have been dead if it weren't for his strong body and flashing sword. He set to bring a random drunk brute to his knees when everyone turned to the door of the tavern. Standing on the threshold Inigo saw a most unusual and awkward pair. One was so large he barely fit through the door and the other so short Inigo could only see the shiny balding top of his head over the crowd of drunken men. The short one's eyes were keen as he surveyed the room. Inigo stared after them, forgetting about the man in front of him, and sliced his way through the staggering mass. The small man stared at him with scheming eyes. Even the brandy, lack of challenge and countless sleepless nights didn't rob Inigo of his skill. Inigo was the best. His sword was quick and his body was lethal. The short man could see that as clearly as if Inigo were at his peak… which he certainly wasn't.

"Fezzik, grab the spick with the sword" The small one ordered the giant. Fezzik pushed his way around the crowd of people and grabbed Inigo before he knew what was going on. He could barely see a thing through the wild colors of the tavern and the blurring from the alcohol. The giant dragged the Spaniard out of the tavern

"No wait, please they need me!" Inigo fumbled around for exactly what he was trying to say but he forgot it and let the odd couple carry him away. Inigo sheathed his sword as he was dragged along the port.

"Vizzini, I don't think he will be of help to us." Fezzik said puzzled at why the small Sicilian would choose a babbling drunken fencer.

"Inigo Montoya! At your service ehh…" Inigo piped up mumbling a bit.

Vizzini sighed

"Well he won't be of help like THAT" Vizzini grabbed a bottle of fancy wine from the floor of the ship. "Here" he tossed it at Inigo who looked very confused but caught it and tried to make out the dancing letters on the bottle. He opened the cork and sniffed it. Shrugging, he downed the whole thing feeling very happy about it all.

After that the wine became weaker and weaker until it was basically water. In a week Inigo didn't even think about brandy or wine. He felt like he did when he was training, his muscles were a tad sore but he realized how much better he felt off the liquor.

"Vizzini," Inigo's question finally arrived. "Why exactly did you hire me?" Vizzini had paid Inigo 100 gold just to sail them around? That didn't make any sense at all.

"Well since Fezzik didn't understand perhaps you could make it more clear to him. You do seem to be of a more intellectual level…" Vizzini wasn't evil, but he wasn't good. Inigo could not figure this short man out at all.

"I'm paying you to help me start a war with Guilder, the country across the sea, the sworn enemy of Florin. With my outstanding wit, the giant's strength, and you skills we'll be indestructible. We'll travel to Florin and capture the princess Buttercup, bride-to-be of Prince Humperdinck. Then we will go to Guilder and dispose of the fine lady there, leaving her remains on the Guilder frontier. The Prince will think Guilder stole and killed her and the people will be begging to start a war. It's all rather simple really and failure would be just inconceivable." Inigo raised an eyebrow at this funny little Sicilian. He would go along with this, at least it would keep his skills up and perhaps he could use the money to fund more travel to find the six-fingered man. Inigo could only hope.

Inigo sat steering the small ship Vizzini had rented for their travel to Florin. As he thought about it more he realized that they were going to destroy the lives of so many people… perhaps the princess had a child she would leave behind? He didn't like the thought of stooping to the level of the six-fingered man. But money was money, and after all, without the job where would he be? Possibly already dead from too much alcohol… maybe worse. He decided once and for all, there was no turning back.

"How do you know this Buttercup will be here? Perhaps she is no' out riding today." Inigo voiced his concern to the over confident Vizzini.

"I have an allegiance with the count of Florin castle. He revealed to me that the princess always rides her horse everyday around this time. We won't have to wait long…" Inigo shook his head and peered back over the waters. He forgot how much he loved sailing. The silvery phantom the water left behind on every object it caressed, the tangy smell of salt, the feeling that you were lost to the world though you knew exactly where you were. As he looked, the rocks on the edge of the land grew scarce; this meant that soon they would find a place to dock the boat. There it was, in the distance Inigo could make out a large platform of rotting wood that extended out into the Florin Channel. He expertly maneuvered the small ship into dock and tied it securely to the wood. Vizzini hopped out first, followed by Fezzik. Inigo stayed on the ship though.

"Get over here. I can hear her coming!" The Sicilian's voice was possibly the worst sound Inigo had ever heard. He obediently jumped off the boat and onto the leaf littered ground.

The three stood in a perfect line waiting patiently for Buttercup to appear. Inigo watched as a brown horse galloped into sight. The rider was a beautiful young lady with soft strawberry blond hair and a bright red gown. Everything about her screamed royalty. She slowed at the sight of the strange threesome.

Vizzini put on a charming look and got the ladies attention. As Buttercup talked with Vizzini Fezzik stepped forward, Buttercup looked worried at the sight of the giant, and rightly so. He pinched a nerve in her neck and knocked her out immediately she barely had time to scream. He carried her off the horse and into the ship. Inigo turned feeling very disappointed in himself for allowing, even assisting in the crime. Vizzini had stayed with the horse. Inigo watched him pull out a red tunic as he began readying the ship for sailing to Guilder. Vizzini ripped of a piece of golden emblem from the red cloth and Inigo looked up from trying to fix the sail.

"What is that you are ripping?" Inigo asked across the dock.

"It's fabric from the uniform of an officer of Guilder." The giant turned around and looked at Vizzini.

"Who's Guilder?" Inigo rolled his eyes.

"The country across the sea! The sworn enemy of Florin!" That sounded all too familiar to Inigo, it must have been the sixth time Vizzini had explained it to Fezzik. That he didn't mind but the fact that every time Vizzini explained it in the same way is what annoyed Inigo. He wasn't as good at planning as Vizzini that he knew, but he at least figured out how to get Fezzik to remember things. Rhyming. Everything Inigo told the giant rhymed, that's why the two were such good friends. Fezzik loved to rhyme and Vizzini obviously didn't get the idea.

Vizzini described once again what the plan was.

"I just don't think it's right. Killing an innocent girl" Fezzik as always knew that thinking was not on his list of duties but Inigo couldn't help but agree.

"Am I going mad or did the word "think" just escape your lips? You were not hired for your brains you hippopotamic land mass! "

"I agree with Fezzik" Inigo leaped into the ship and began to get the boat moving.

"Oh the sot has spoken!" Vizzini said sarcastically. He scurried up the steps and backed Inigo into the side of the ship.

"What happens to her is none of your concern. I will kill her and remember this… never forget this! When I found you, you were so slobbering drunk you couldn't buy brandy!" Inigo stared back at the pestering employer. Vizzini turned to Fezzik walking back down the stairs as he talked.

"And you! Friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless! Do you want me to send you back to were you were? Unemployed in Greenland?" Vizzini was raging at Fezzik who was backing up away from his station at the wheel. Inigo felt pity for his only friend. He looked up and waited for Vizzini to leave. Inigo stood slowly and walked over to the flustered Turk, for Fezzik was fro Turkey. Rhymes would be wonderful for Fezzik right now, Inigo was always kind to Fezzik but he thought it kind of odd that a man of such strength would cower under the tiny Sicilian.

"That Vizzini… he can FUSS" He put emphasis on the last word for Fezzik to rhyme with.

"Fuss… fuss… I think he like to scream at us" He smiled at his rhyme

"Probably he means no… HARM"

"He's really very short on CHARM" Inigo reached up his arm and patted the giant on the back.

"Ahh you've a great gift for rhyme"

"Yes yes, some of the time." Inigo had accomplished his goal of cheering up the Turk so he returned to the rudder of the ship.

"Enough of that" Vizzini snapped, apparently he didn't enjoy rhyming.

"Fezzik are there rocks ahead?" Inigo asked ignoring the Sicilian.

"If there are we'll all be dead."

"No more rhymes now I mean it!"

"Anybody want a peanut?"


	8. Back to the Begining

**New and Improved September First Addition **

_**Author's note: Yes I did read the book but this particular fan fiction is movie based just because it gives me some more freedom ok? But I still used Giulietta because I can! So I would like to say on behalf of all those people too afraid to melt the book into the movie but still leave off things from each a triumphant " ha-ha" sticks tongue out. I don't own any of the characters or anything… that was William Goldman. Though I wish I owned Inigo … one can dream.**_

A lovely black haired woman danced in front of Inigo Montoya. Her dress waving around her and hands poised. He watched with interest and a bright smile as he sat near a slightly leaning tree. The woman danced closer and closer, soon Inigo realized that she wasn't just any woman… she was Giulietta. The young girl he had found on the streets not far from Florin Castle with a cut up face and some coins. She was the same Giulietta who had lived with him for three years before all of the sudden walking out on him. He loved her very much and the sight of her brought back an endless flood of memories. She was almost close enough to touch now, the long sash around her arms floated above Inigo as she twisted and turned. She was so very close, but only a phantom of his dreams.

"Giulietta" The barely conscious Spaniard mused aloud. Then out of no where someone hit hard on the back of his head with a rock… or something. His eyes flashed open at the throbbing from the blow the Man in Black had given him. He groaned, his dream of Giulietta had vanished. She was only a memory now, a ghostly reminder of the past before he became a slave to brandy… or to Vizzini for that matter. He tried to collect his thoughts. His head banged still.

_When a job goes wrong go back to the beginning…_ but where did Inigo's story begin? Should he return to the tavern he was found in, or perhaps the town of Arabella where he began his whole life? Maybe the beginning meant Florin where they had captured Buttercup. There was no simple way of telling. He thought for a moment of going towards the Guilder frontier where Vizzini and Fezzik should have been but that was where the Man in Black was going and Inigo certainly didn't want to run into him again. He only hoped that Vizzini and Fezzik could take care of themselves, well not so much Vizzini as his friend Fezzik. Vizzini was only an employer.

Inigo shook his head; he would get no where by sitting down on the top of the Cliffs of Insanity. He was very surprised, but immensely grateful to find his sword next to him. He scooped it up and polished the blade on his shirt. Then took a long look at the fine shimmer it seemed to always radiate. He reluctantly sheathed it set out for the port. He was positive there was nothing for him here in Guilder. His best bet would be in Florin but he hated the thieves' quarters. Even the greatest fencer in the world was not safe there, especially if he had happened to accidentally sip some wine, then, again of course, quite involuntarily down the whole bottle… plus a few more perhaps. He would be in no condition to fight if his life depended on it, but where else would he go? Still rubbing the back of his head he began walking; now, while someone is alone for long a strange thing starts to happen. They begin to think much too hard.

Inigo realized, first off, that he was no longer the greatest swordsman in the world. This thought was terrible after all the work he had put into seeking his revenge. He had been defeated by this unknown Man in Black. Next he realized that he still had a long job ahead of him, avenge his father's death. Then the next thought came shockingly painful, he had not been able to find the six-fingered man before the job with Vizzini and he had become completely useless because of the alcohol and depression. Now if he could not find the man again would he turn to the taverns? Well going back to the beginning did mean going back to the tavern so that is where he, reluctantly, decided to go. Not to go look for this six-fingered man again but to drink away the last of his money and let his fire die once more. After all who needed the pain and sense of loss and loneliness when all could be cured with a few swigs of a drink?


	9. Inigo's Return

**New and Improved September First Addition **

_**Author's note: All of Goldman's original text is in bold because I love his work and I am not him so therefore I must give credit to him… oh and by the way Inigo, Vizzini, Giulietta, Westley, Buttercup, Fezzik the whole gang belong to Goldman, not me. **_

Inigo couldn't have been happier waiting for the dead Vizzini to return. Well that's what he thought of course, only weeks before he was beaten, confused, alone, and without a purpose. Now though… he at least had his taverns.

"I am'a waiting… for you! Vizzini!" he would rant "I will NOT leave until Vizzini is here" and it would move on to, "Has anyone seen a short annoying man ehh?"

**"Three months is a long time to wait, especially for a passionate Spaniard." Much louder now: "And I am very passionate, Vizzini, and you are nothing but a tardy Sicilian. So if you're not here in ninety more days, I'm done with you. You hear? Done!" Much softer now: "I didn't mean that, Vizzini, I just love my filthy stoop, take your time…."**

He would wander for awhile around the thieves' forest. Then he would sit and drink the nights away. Even through his inebriated state he would dream, only ever of one person. An Italian woman with long waving black hair and gently black eyes. Inigo did not remember her. In fact he barely remembered anything. Oh but Giulietta remembered him…

"Sire SIRE!" A man of perhaps forty lumbered down the street in front of Giulietta.

"Umph?" he turned around suddenly to face a woman of perhaps thirty with thick black hair waving around her. She was running to keep up with him and almost slammed into his enormous figure but came to a stop just inches from him.

"Uhh sire… can you please tell me, are any of these boats set to sail for Florin?" She was extremely nervous around strangers, especially strangers of this might. Her fists clenched and she prepared herself to run the other direction if need be. He sighed and pointed a great finger to a very large ship.

"_The Royale_, sails straight to Florin. But I'm afraid they won't let a woman on their ship lass. Woman are … bad luck" he said with a sinister grin. Giulietta gulped and made a break for it tossing back a rushed thank you. She had to get on that ship! Giulietta hid behind a small silver smith and hurriedly set to work. If they would not allow a woman then she would just have to trick them. Nothing could come between her and her true love especially not some superstitious pirates. She stripped off her limp dress leaving on her under skirts and searched through the garbage finding a huge pair of worn cloth pants. The rotting fabric made her nose sting at the stench but she slipped them on over her skirt anyway. She grabbed her dress and ripped off a strip to wrap around her head. Biting her lip to mask the smell and muck she rummaged through the piles left out behind the shop. Scraps of silver, feathers, chicken bones (hopefully) and finally what she was looking for, an empty tin of gunk which was probably at one time oil… or maybe worse. She winced as she smeared a bit over her face and hands. _Men! Only they would walk around like this _she thought to herself in disgust.

Giulietta, now completely unfeminine, set to work on getting onto that ship. She strolled confidently to a wooden table in front of the dock for _The Royale. _

"I'd like to work on the ship." She said to the man there in the gruffest voice she cold muster.

"Name?" He didn't even look up. How rude!

"Umm… Blake" she replied after some thought.

"Go on" still not even a glance. All the better though.

Inigo's world plunged into an uproar. People yelling animals running loose. He had no idea what was going on. All the Spaniard knew was that he was staying right there. No way, no how would he ever be moved.

**"Ho there!"** a hefty guy with some sort of mace shouted at him. Ahh he was too happy here. Nope not moving.

**"keep your "ho there" I do no' budge"**

**"But the prince gave orders"** _Prince!?_ Inigo ruled his own life. He lashed out waving the glinting six-fingered sword dangerously through the air, quite clearing startling the brute.

**"So did Vizzini!"** He mumbled **"When a job went wrong we go back to the beginning. This is where we got the job. So i's the beginning and I am staying until Vizzini come."**

**"You, Brute, come here!"**

**"I am waiting for Vizzini…"** Inigo slumped back against a wall an empty glint in his eyes. From somewhere in the distance he heard carts being towed away. They would never get him out. He was the great wizard of the sword. The best since Bastia!

**"You surely are a meanie"** A familiar voice? Inigo was grabbed by the collar. Two huge firsts pulled him off the wall. He raised a hand to compare his with the giants… something rang a bell

**"It's you"** he said dreamily

**"True!"** The other brute came in to capture Inigo who didn't even remember the brute being there.

**"You don't look so good."** Inigo scoffed.

**"You don't smell so good either…"**

**"Perhaps no'… But I feel fine"** He said unconvincingly. Fezzik dropped his hold on the drunken Spaniard and Inigo fainted right there. Too much in a day for someone living off brandy.

The next thing Inigo remembered he was being dunked one after the other into buckets of hot and icy water. He barely caught his breath in between. He had enough and tore out of the strong grasp of the Turk. Finally remembering his cause and that Fezzik had told him he was so close. His eyes were alight. Finally after much thought they came to a conclusion. Rather Inigo came to the conclusion that the only way to get through the castle which was now guarded by 30 men because of Buttercup's wedding would be to first find the Man in Black who had beaten not only Inigo, not only Fezzik, but also the Sicilian Vizzini. To beat them all this man had to be very wise, strong and exceptionally skilled with steal. The battle was still a sore spot on Inigo's pride though.

**"Let's go."**

**"Where?"**

**"To find The Man in Black of course"**

**"But you don't know where he is!"**

**"Don't bother me with trifles,"** Inigo was at the door raging with new found zeal. **"After twenty years at last my father's soul will be at peace. There will be blood tonight!!"** He tore out the door followed closely by a confused giant.


	10. The End

**New and Improved September First Addition **

Inigo led Fezzik and Westley deeper into the castle being very cautious and peering around every bend before going on. Fezzik carried Westley by his limp arm. He dragged his feet below him like a rag doll and tried to stand but found an odd lack of power in his legs. Inigo heard loud footsteps, perhaps five guards were coming. He motioned for the giant and the man in black to stop and he continued a bit further. Racing around the corner appeared a count and four guards, all wielding dangerous swords. Inigo unsheathed his own sword and smiled wide, filled with joy. The nobleman was tall, old and ugly. He carried a sword in his right hand… a hand that was gloved… a glove that fit over six fingers. Inigo was poised to begin his revenge battle glad to have the company of Fezzik and Westley. The count did not recognize him.

"Kill the dark one and the giant, but leave the third for questioning." His voice was colder, more snakelike then Inigo remembered. It was enough to chill the blood. At his command the guards rushed forward to disarm Inigo and kill Westley and Fezzik. Inigo quickly flicked his sword and within seconds all four hit the castle ground, dead. Inigo straightened to full height much more impressive then the ten year old the count had seen before. His legs were long and muscular, his body blade thin of course, and his arms strong. His dark brown Spanish eyes sought revenge. The count's blood was all that could cure his thirst and now there Rugen was ripe for the killing. Inigo's mind was clear as he uttered the words that had danced on his lips so many years longing to be said.

"Hello," he smiled "my name is Inigo Montoya; you killed my father…. Prepare to die" Inigo got into position his grin widening by the second and his eyes bright. Rugen did the same, only his movements were stiffer, not as fluid of those of the Spaniard. Just as the tension rose and they were about to begin Rugen's eyes widened and he did the thing least expected of a count. He ran like a dog with it's tail between it's legs. Inigo was taken aback for a moment but then tore off after him at twice the speed. His strong legs dashing through corridors and following the fleeing count. Much to Inigo's dismay the count ran through an open door which he locked behind him. Inigo was a light fellow and no matter how much he jammed his thin frame against the wooden door it would not budge.

"Fezzik! Fezzik I need you please!" He shouted for assistance but Fezzik wouldn't have it.

"I can't leave him alone" he said gesturing to Westley.

"He's getting away!" Inigo's shoulder was becoming sore as he jammed his arm once more against it then again and again. He was going mad trying to open the door. His revenge at last so close he could see it and all that was stopping him was a piece of wood? The greatest fencer in the world since Bastia was stopped by a piece of wood. How sad Inigo thought it. Inigo was jammed up against the stony wall, ready to charge the door again when a giant hand stopped him. Fezzik blew down the door with one solid punch. Inigo felt relief wash over him as he saw the count just at a distance turn a corner. He yelled out a quick thank you and rushed on after Rugen. The chase went on for what seemed like years to Inigo. He picked up speed and hopped down a curling flight of stone stairs into the doorway of a fancy billiard room. He had seen that Rugen had stopped for a moment but Inigo was too focused to think about that. Soon he would be cornered and Inigo Montoya would at last avenge his father's death. He jumped through the door way, sword ahead of him ready to make his speech once more ready to kill Rugen right then and there.

Author's note: If I were Goldman (I'm not…) I would now say something like –

Here my father would put down the book, sigh and without one more word walk out of the room leaving me to contemplate all the possible things that could happen next. Needless to say, my dreams were filled with chases and sword fights and at last sweet revenge… 

Yep that's what I would do but no… Goldman has to focus on Fezzik, Buttercup, and Westley because Fezzik's his favorite character and Buttercup and Westley are the "Main characters" blah. Blah. Blah. Well not so in this version. In this version I will give you the suspense you disserve, time to think about Inigo and all the feelings of revenge, all the years he spent becoming the greatest fencer in the world…. Then hit you with this little piece. 

Inigo felt a cold dagger enter his body like a bullet. The speed of it surprised him. He grabbed the hilt of the long knife and felt warm blood seeping from his side. His back slammed against the wall but he didn't feel it. The blood continued to pour out of his body and the billiard room went white. He knew he was too late. He, Inigo Montoya, the Wizard from Arrabella Spain was going to die at the hand of his father's killer. "I'm s.. sorry father" He could almost bare the pain of the wound if it wasn't for the pain of loosing to this poor excuse for a man. Rugen stepped towards the dying Spaniard with an evil glint in his eye, some sick satisfaction at his pain, both physical and of the heart. "You must be that little Spanish brat I taught a lesson to all those years ago. Simply incredible, you've been chasing me your whole life only to fail now. I think that's the worst thing I ever heard…. How marvelous"

The thought that Inigo had wasted his life searching for the count sent a shiver down his spine and he sunk to the ground as if Rugen's words had pierced him even deeper. He closed his eyes and he himself prepared to die, the horrific irony was inescapable. He thought of his father, the concept of never having his revenge was enough to kill him, but he also thought of a promise he made a very long time ago to a young Italian girl…

"Giulietta…" Inigo whispered softly in her ear.

"My love?" She replied equally as soft. They had lain in the bed all night together simply talking. They talked for hours all the time. Giulietta delighted in his smooth voice as much as Inigo loved hers.

"I will always come for you…" he spoke this meaning every word and knowing that some day he would have to leave her to find the six-fingered man. Inigo was young yes, but even he knew that death could not stop true love. "Even if I never get my revenge," the words stung him a bit but the look in her eyes made it worth while, he would always keep his promise to her. As they held each other that night, it felt as if nothing could ever separate them. Until the shred of doubt entered Giulietta's mind and threatened to break the peace.

"But how can you be sure?" She wasn't sure she was saying it. She didn't want to believe it but Giulietta knew that there was a good chance the six-fingered man would in fact kill Inigo but the thought ripped her apart.

"This is true love… you think this happens every day?" There was a smile in his voice and his eyes glimmered…

Inigo, now sitting on the cold floor at the feet of his father's murderer knew that he had to find Giulietta before he died. He simply could not leave this world until he heard her voice and danced with her at least once more. The count had said something but Inigo's ears were ringing and he didn't here it. He grew determined and opened his eyes seeing the smiling face of the one he wanted dead. Inigo clenched the dagger with all his remaining strength and pulled it from his body hastily covering the wound with his hand to help stop the bleeding. He was no dumb Spaniard. He began to slowly ascend the wall the life had visibly left his eyes but something kept him going. The count furrowed his dark brow, trying to understand what was going on in the dying man in front of him. Rugen had very little experience with love, much less true love. Sure he had married but love never even crossed his mind. Money, power, and perhaps an heir or two. That's what his marriage was for, nothing more.

"Are you still trying to win?" Always…. Inigo thought to himself because he had no voice. He shouldered his way up into a standing position and pushed of the wall towards the count. The room spun around him and he was forced to fall back against the wall holding his wound tighter. The count plunged his sword towards Inigo's heart but he blocked it so it only went through his left shoulder. Inigo felt absolutely nothing as more blood soaked his shirt, his other agonies were so much worse. The count, mildly surprise, went in for the kill yet again but this time Inigo blocked Rugen's sword to his left arm even farther from the target. Inigo's dark eyes were glinting again. A wild fire only made stronger by the likelihood of burning out. He once more pushed off the wall scarcely aware that he was rapidly bleeding to death. He spoke, quietly, slowly, painfully

"Hello… my name is Inigo Montoya… you killed my father…. Prepare to die." A sharp stab of pain made him collapse onto a nearby table and his hair fell forward against his face. He quickly recovered and held out his sword just in time to block one of Rugen's frightened attempts at killing him. He repeated his line once more stronger yet, an air of confidence in his voice. To him it was like telling an ice chip it would melt, no doubt, no way out of it, it was simply fact. The two crossed swords. Rugen was filled with panic which only made Inigo all the more contented. Rugen attacked, Inigo blocked then Inigo was on the attack. He shouted his line with more zeal then Rugen thought possible for a half-dead man. Rugen flicked his sword at Inigo but Inigo blocked it and ran through Rugen's right shoulder in the precise fashion that Rugen had stabbed his. Then onto his left arm. Inigo went through his strategy in his mind, two down three to go he thought. He was killing Rugen the same way Rugen had killed him. He backed Rugen into a table, there was no doubt now that Inigo was going to win. The count's eyes were wide with terror.

"Offer me money!" Inigo sliced the count's cheek, mimicking his own scars.

"Yes"

"Power too, promise me that!" the other slice.

"All that I have and more please!" The count hissed an evil sound. Inigo stepped back keeping his sword close the count's throat. He pulled his hand from his first wound for dramatic effect; the blood on it glinted and reflected in the count's glassy eyes.

"Offer me everything I ask for" He was going to humiliate the count.

"Anything you want" the count gritted his teeth and tried to attack. Inigo grabbed Rugen's right arm and ran him through, same as when the count almost killed him. The count was already half scared to death and with such a cold heart he had nothing to live for. The count died on Inigo's sword. Years of torturing innocent people, months of degrading Westley, a broken life all ended by one smooth cut. The years drained from his face.

Inigo pushed the dead man of unceremoniously with his boot and watched as this father's murderer crumpled to the floor. Pasty skin, lifeless eyes and features frozen in eternal fear. A wonderful sight indeed.

Inigo was feeling weaker then ever. He replaced his hand and stumbled off back towards Fezzik and Westley, hoping that they weren't in any danger…


	11. The Begining

**New and Improved September First Addition **

As you - dear reader - hopefully know, after the swashbuckling, revenge seeking, ride stealing, wedding crashing, happily ever after _of S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure: The Princess Bride _therewas a tragedy. More precisely, four tragedies….

The foursome had been riding on the whites (Prince Humperdinck's champion bred horses) for only a few minutes, they were barely away from the castle; it's weathered grey stone ominously looming in the cold air of early morning. The daylight was slowly showing itself above the tree tops in the distance casting a pale pink glow on the figures cantering on the bright white horses. And that is exactly were their troubles began. Westley, having been previously "mostly dead" ( of course this left him in a better position then all dead but still … not cool) and brought back to life with a magic chocolate ( this was after the invention of chocolate… and the decision that it was actually the only important ingredient in … anything…) coated pill only had forty-five minutes of life left. As his stillness and quite un-present breathing suggested, his forty-five minutes were officially up.

"Westley!" Buttercup (his beautiful soon-to-be-wife) shrieked in a helpless voice as her true love slumped lifeless in the saddle. (This being the third time in five years that her Westley had died she was more then a little upset) She very gingerly hopped out of her saddle and jogged to her love, who was now slipping out of the saddle, a horrible feeling rising like a wave inside her.

Inigo, the handsome, rail-thin, Spanish swordsman, was a bit worried, naturally, because of Westley's apparent re-death and tried to dismount to lend a hand. He was no miracle man but perhaps he could have at least kept Buttercup from going insane. Unfortunately the spike of pain in his stomach from the deep Florinese dagger wound was too much for him to handle now. He moaned as the blood rushed from his body and he half slid - half toppled to the ground. The two lovers and three white horses went completely out of focus.

Now, if you knew Fezzik you would know he would have been considerably alarmed by now… that is if he hadn't been three and a quarter miles away from them and their sad state. Lost and terribly, terribly alone Fezzik began to do what he did in such times. Rhyme. _Sublime…_

Buttercup was simply beside herself that her true love was dead for the third time; she didn't even give the slightest glimpse toward poor Inigo. She threw herself onto Westley's limp body and wept. She raised her head slowly and began to gently talk to Wesley.

"Don't go, please. We've come so far. Remember what you said to me in the ravine…" She began to yell at him… not so gently this time.

"Westley! You can't be dead! Not now! COME BACK!" All the commotion had stirred something in Westley's seemingly lifeless form though, which was a start. Inigo, (desperate now for the pitiful screaming and begging to stop as it was not helping him at all with trying to recover) remembered what Miracle Max had said about the healing power of tickling (this was also after tickling, but before deodorant and shaving under the arms so this was not practiced much for obvious reasons) . Figuring if he could get Westley back to being mostly alive, then maybe someone would care to attend to him. He feebly told Buttercup to tickle Westley. Trying hard to make sure she heard every word he said even though his speech was muffled by the pain now hitting in his arms.

"What! You're hallucinating." And she turned her attention right back to Westley, typical Buttercup.

"I am no'! Jus' do it" he retorted in a weak yet still beautiful Spanish accent.

Buttercup sighed at his persistence and – still not noticing Inigo's deteriorating state - began to tickle her beloved. And continue to talk… yell at him to the dismay of Inigo and every living being within a 10 mile radius. Finally Westley half opened his eyes.

"Please, please you know I hate tickling love!" He chuckled a bit

"Oh Westley! You're alive… again!" She threw her arms around him.

"Yes, and if you weren't so focused on tickling me back to life you could've been helping Inigo. Look, now, honey, I can't move! I know how you detest the sight of blood dear but you must!" Westley ordered giving her his greatest begging face, true she was a bit of a sap… but she was HIS sap. Inigo was slipping in and out of consciousness and still clutching the gash in his stomach as Buttercup - not wishing to leave the dirt floor for fear of fainting - crawled over to the wounded Spaniard.

"Can you hear me?" She whispered in his ear past the think brown hair, doubting that he could.

"Uhh" he managed and winced as another wave of pain swept through him. He winced and was alone with his thoughts and nothing from the outside world got through. He - Inigo Montoya - had done his job, avenged his father's death. Now what was left for him? Piracy, a possibility but he couldn't see himself stealing and killing without a purpose there was no great nobility in that. What of him then? There was nothing. Nothing left to live for… except… maybe one person, a lover of old, Giulietta. The dark haired beauty he had dreamed of so long ago, who had slept with him on the cold nights he would have otherwise spent in haystacks, who had later left him forever apparently because of his unending quest for the six-fingered man. The thought of her alone sparked life into his blade thin body. He gradually came back to the world and realized that Buttercup was, very timidly, wrapping his wounds with a ripped piece of her dress. She dropped the wrapping, let out a tiny shriek and fell over backward from the sight of all the blood. Inigo sighed with annoyance as he regained strength and tried to finish the wrapping. He attempted to stand but his legs buckled underneath him and wouldn't budge.

He took a moment then to observe his surroundings. Fezzik, the great giant, was no wear in sight this alone was a large problem. Buttercup lay next to him white as a sheet and out cold utterly useless. Westley leaned up against a spruce tree focusing quite intently on wiggle his limbs. Inigo reached over with his least damaged arm and lightly tapped Buttercup on the cheek to wake her. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Buttercup, help Westley back on his horse, I'll get on mine and all three of us find Fezzik" Inigo gave the instructions quickly and to the point. Buttercup got on her feet after a moment of struggle and grabbed Westley under his arms. Inigo was surprised at how fast she got Westley up, considering how much more muscle he had then her.

Inigo slowly pulled himself back onto the white horse that was now splotched with dark red blood. He sat for a moment and tried to concentrate on the sweet face of his dreams but Buttercup was already on her horse and turned around heading back the way they came.

Westley followed close behind Buttercup and Inigo jabbed his boots into the horse's sides and was sent trotting off. His think brown hair flopping behind him. Again he was alone with his thoughts but this time he was a little bit more conscious. His mind turned to Fezzik. The Turk would want to stay with him once Buttercup and Wesley were safely on their ship. He had no clue what he was going to do with Fezzik though in all truth. He had enjoyed the giant's loveable company and rhyming fetish… but where would Fezzik be when he found Giulietta? Would he have to live with his Turkish friend his whole life? He tried to clear the fog clouding his mind and the searing pain of the three sword wounds and desperately thought only of Giulietta.

It wasn't long before they found Fezzik, the giant bowing the back of the poor horse beneath him. He brightened when he saw Inigo.

"Inigo, I found the ship!" _Trip _he thought to himself. Inigo was amazed once again at the Turk's sudden streak of good finds.

"It's just up a bit farther up… I didn't see any pirates though. Isn't it a pirate ship?"

"Nothing to worry over, the crew was probably under deck gambling again." Westley chimed in "I swear that will be their downfall." He muttered half to himself with a tsk.

"Let's ge'…" Inigo couldn't finish his sentence. He had let the vision of Giulietta that kept him whole be chased out of his mind for too long and once again felt hallowed out. He fell forward on the think neck of the horse that was now more or less coated in blood. Fezzik looked frantically at Wesley and Buttercup. The latter looked worried but the former stayed cool as always he was The Dread Pirate Roberts after all.

"Don't worry, the girl will be able to fix him up. She's wonderful. Found her on a ship on her way here from Italy. One of the boys was a wimp about killin' the woman so I was about to take care of it but she offered to help us out a bit." Wesley said keen now but still mostly immobile.

"Buttercup, take his horse, well let him rest for now" Buttercup obeyed and snatched the horse's reins which Inigo had dropped.

"Fezzik, lead the way" Wesley said with a nod.

_Sorbet…._

They reached the ship before the sun was fully above their heads and Wesley called out for the crew. His voice rang over the undisturbed waters and after a short amount of time a scraggly looking pirate stuck his head out from an old looking wooden door in the glorious black ship that was the _Revenge. _

"Aye Cap'n" He dipped his head revealing the nastiest hair Buttercup had ever laid eyes on. Five terribly dressed, unwashed but under it all slightly handsome pirates walked out behind the first and took Buttercup's horse as she refused to be lifted off. Heaven knows where those hands had been.

She helped her Wesley off his horse and wrapped her delicate arms under his and around his torso to keep him standing as best she could. Inigo was still draped over the horse's neck. A lovely black haired woman all but danced out of a cabin. She slid over to the others and surveyed the group. Her brown eyes widened at the sight of the still, handsome, young Spaniard. She raced over to Inigo and without hesitating slung her arms around his chest and carefully pulled him off the horse and caressed his face. The face with the same familiar light scars.

"Inigo, it has been awhile" She whispered inaudibly. Being cautious to keep the make-shift bandages tight around him, she brought him into the cabin she appeared from. That was the last Wesley and Buttercup saw of the two for a long while.

Inigo awoke to the heavy scent of a perfumed candle. He couldn't open his eyes yet but he could tell that his deep cuts had been re-wrapped more carefully then before. He was lying on a bed in a dark cabin and was feeling all together much better. A soft finger ran along his jaw line and he tried to force open his honey brown eyes. He knew he was dreaming… or dead because their, sitting on the bed beside him was _his_ one true love. Older now, but never more beautiful.

"G-Giulietta?" he asked, still not sure if he was alive or not. Her finger pressed his lips shut and he felt her hot breath in his ear

"Yes, it's me Inigo." He breathed her in, he had finally found his love. Now he could settle down and be who she wanted him to be. His fingers went to his side to find the six-fingered sword, his first love, clean and sharpened. His other hadn't reached up and tangled in her hair, they were together forever now. Wesley had gotten his happy ever after at the castle but now was his turn. The way he saw it he won out, having avenged his father's death and gotten his girl all in one day. Nothing else could go wrong.

_Oh but what to do with Fezzik… _


	12. Giulietta Snippet

**New and Improved September First Addition (huge new section! Please read!)**

It seemed as if she had just finally fallen asleep, her body carefully laid over his with his fingers entwined through her dark hair. Last night had been wonderful and painful all in one. Inigo was unconscious most of the night but she stayed up and watched over him. It was in that night that Giulietta remembered when the two first met. Actually a similar situation, they had both come from the castle, they were both injured although Inigo was noticeably worse then Giulietta, they were both lost in each other.

Flashback

Giulietta sat in her cabin enjoying a long letter from her mother that had arrived earlier that day. The candle light cast an orange glow on the large stack of letters. She just finished the letter smiling to herself when she heard horses out side. She furrowed her brow out of interest at who would be here so late and slowly climbed the steps out of her cabin into the morning outside. She blinked as she was met with much brighter light then she had expected to find. Peering over the crowd of pirates she saw the Dread Pirates Roberts, who was awkwardly slumped in his saddle but obviously alive, a giant that looked as if he could sink the ship, a dainty princess in shimmering blue and... Another horse who's rider was out of sight somehow.

She stood on her toes and examined the seemingly empty horse that was reined to the princess' horse. She bit her lip at the sight of the blood then had to do a double take on who was in the saddle. Couldn't be... she didn't want to believe that the person she was searching for was right here... apparently dead She shook the thought from her mind and concentrated on the task at hand: getting that man into her cabin... hoping he was alive… and finding out what was wrong with the captain.

She bunched up her dress and smoothly floated out the door all of the sudden the man on the blood soaked horse moved a bit revealing the slightest hint of his cheek... with a scar! Giulietta wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. She rushed over to her Spaniard making quite sure that it was truly him and almost fainted at the sight of HIS blood. Any other blood would have been fine but his... she bit her lip and carefully, lovingly wrapped her arms around his body, blade thin as always. She slid him off staring into his beautiful face. She was sure the others couldn't see there silent exchange as Inigo slightly opened his eyes and said extremely quietly

"I'm dead aren' I? You've comm" then the life left him again and he slumped even more in her thin arms.

"Inigo... It has been awhile." She prayed with all her might that he would not die. Though she knew full well he was fatally injured, she let a tear escape her then rushed him back to her cabin. His body with its dead weight made him impossibly heavy for someone so skinny. She finally got him there though and carefully set him on her bed. Her hands were covered in blood that was now seeping onto the bed but she didn't mind. She smoothed back her hair to keep it out of her face and set to work.

Giulietta happily took his blood stained shirt off and tossed it to the floor examining the large gash on his stomach.

"Oh my dear Inigo..." She grabbed a wet cloth and began blotting the blood away but it quickly reappeared. She then searched for the strips of fabric she had for the occasion that someone might be injured on the ship. Giulietta expertly wrapped many layers around Inigo's torso as tight as she could but the bleeding wouldn't stop. She was beginning to worry.

_**Author's note: I would like to formerly apologize for this next part... it gives me no pleasure to do this and you have no idea how hard this is to write! And I would also like to say INIGO NOOOO!! :(( Ok read on**_

The Spaniard's breathing was rapidly declining. Giulietta could do nothing but stroke his wonderful brown hair and apply pressure to the still bleeding wound. She began crying helplessly as she felt his breathing stop altogether. She clenched her fist and hugged his lifeless body putting her head to his chest and hearing nothing. Out of desperation she ransacked her cabin. Nothing, nothing

"Oh Inigo! I'm so sorry!" She felt like she was about to die when she remembered the most vital thing she thought of all night. Her mother's letter had mentioned something about her befriending the last miracle man in Florin, Miracle Max, and his reviving pill. It was her last hope.

She frantically read through her mother's letter and found it. Her mother had actually gotten Max's recipe and sent her an extra pill to have on hand just in case something should go wrong. Her mother was always thinking of her. She tore open a larger letter sent by her mother and found a chocolate brown lump. She had no time to inspect it she needed Inigo back. Giulietta rushed over to the corpse of her beloved and stuffed the pill into his throat. Nothing happened. Who was she kidding? Her mother was not a Miracle worker! She draped her body over the dead Spaniard and cried until her eyes had become a desert and her heart was broken in two. She was planning her suicide when to her surprise she heard something, a wonderful and familiar voice.

"Prepare to die..." Her eyes shot open out of fear I'm dead, I'm dead. INIGO!! Where are you? She thought for sure she would see her love perfect running towards her; after all she was dead right? Wrong. Inigo stirred underneath her. Hope shot through her like a million spears threatening to overwhelm her. She pressed her ear close to his chest again and listened. Inigo was alive! The one she loved more then life itself. She was about to burst with joy that her mother's pill had finally taken affect.

"Never leave me again Inigo... I will follow you where ever you go." She whispered to him. His eyes were closed and he did not speak but at least was breathing, the rest would come later. She beamed as she lay next to him and fell asleep.

Giulietta awoke with a start. There was no clue as to what had caused her to wake but as she lifted her head from Inigo's chest she saw that she had been asleep much longer then she had thought. Giulietta looked down and grinned at his sleeping figure. Careful of his still fresh wounds she slipped out of the bed and blew out the candles which were now burnt past recognition.

She slowly removed the wrappings now stained with blood that worried her a little. She examined the deep cuts wincing as she did. She never minded the sight of this when it happened to other people, she'd seen people hacked apart by ruddy pirates for goodness sakes but now as she studied the life threatening wounds of her only true love she cringed and had to bite her lip so she didn't cry out. Though she was careful not to wake him as she cleaned his cuts, he opened his brown eyes.

"Good morning love" His voice was like melted honey even after the long night and even through the pain she knew he was feeling.

"Are you feeling well?" she asked him.

"Better now tha' you're here" He smiled a bit but it was weak even though it was filled with sincerity. Then closed his eyes again and she replaced the old bandages with the new. Soon, with luck, these too would be lightened scars matching the twins on his cheeks. He was asleep again but that didn't bother her. What a long night the four of them had had. She sat down in a wooden chair and stared at him. The long sword that never left his side, the thick brown hair that fluffed out at the top and framed his face perfectly… she missed him more then she imagined and now after years of wandering they were back together through some miracle of true love.

Giulietta found joy in being able to save his life; after all he rescued her many a time. She thought back to their adventures as youth. Inigo would always be running around and sleep very little, when did sleep they were in each other's arms, and when he ran Giulietta was right beside him, and when he practiced the sword Giulietta would watch with interest as his blade danced with shadows and spilt through the wind. She admired his every move. Then came the fateful night when she knew she had to leave, but not because of him it was her. It was all her fault and she should've never left.

She also felt a twinge of intense gnawing guilt at the thought of how she had left him. Alone, missing his father and bent on murdering a man who for all he knew could have been dead. Was the Count dead yet? Shock ripped through her as she remembered the letter that she had received only hours earlier that now lay on her wooden desk. And realization came too. Was it truly Rugen who had thrown the long dagger at my love? Could it have been the same Florinese dagger that Rugen had prized when he bought it from a poor merchant all those years back? Her mind bent around the fact that the letter would brings news of the death of her father… and Domingo Montoya's murderer.


	13. The Return to Italy

**New and Improved September First Addition **

"Inigo… Inigo are you awake?" It was the third night that Inigo, Buttercup, Fezzik, and Wesley were on the ship and Giulietta had decided it was time Inigo know the truth.

"Hmm maybe, why?" He asked drowsily.

"There are some things I have to tell you…" She paused half hoping he was still asleep.

"The night I left… well you see… this ship is sailing back to Italy and when we reach the port we will be released and the whole reason I am telling you this is because of who is waiting for us in Italy" She took in a deep breath.

"And who is tha' love?" Inigo still had his eyes closed.

"Our daughter" Inigo snapped wide awake and sat up much too quickly sending him back to the bed because of the dizziness.

"O…OUR daughter?" He repeated in disbelief.

"Yes our daughter, Lucinda."

"So… tha's why you left me… because of her?" Giulietta nodded

"You had dreams left; you had a future ahead of you. I couldn't tie you down with that." Giulietta wished desperately that Inigo had not been in the revenge business; if she could change one thing that about her past that would be it. She loved Inigo still but she knew him all too well to believe that he could settle down with a family.

"How old is she know? Does she look like you? Who is watching her?" Inigo fired off the questions at a slightly surprised Giulietta.

"She... she's thirteen, she has your eyes, and I hired a nanny…" Giulietta could tell from the spark in Inigo's eyes that he was excited but she had no idea if he would be able to stay in one place long enough.

They reached the port in record time. Inigo's wounds were healing well, Wesley had eventually gotten back his strength and Fezzik was... Fezzik.

"I am sorry I could no' accept the job as The Dread Pirate Roberts" Inigo said to Wesley, truly a touch disappointed.

"But I must stay with Giulietta. I can no' loose her again."

"I understand" Wesley said through kissing Buttercup. That was all he seemed to do once he got his strength back… Buttercup certainly didn't mind.

"True love is true love" he sighed

"Good bye!" Wesley shouted back to the two who were left standing on the dock.

"Good b.." Buttercup was too busy being kissed to finish. Giulietta looked in Inigo's sweet brown eyes and they too kissed. Her love at last with her forever. Fezzik though was feeling very alone as he watched Inigo and Giulietta shrink into the distance. _No more rhyming… timing _he would think. _I have lost my best friend… trend _

Giulietta broke off the kiss for once

"We better go get Lucinda." She smiled at him

"Lead the way" He bowed gentlemanly and she giggled like she hadn't since she was a young girl. The two walked hand in hand down the glorious streets of Italy, throwing pleased glances at each other every once in awhile.

They finally reached a very small house at the base of a mountain. A grape vine grew just around the door frame and there were no lights on inside even though it was almost dark. This puzzled Giulietta but they continued on anyways. She reached out a skim hand and opened the door with a creek. It was dark inside and no one was there. Giulietta let out a sharp gasp as she fond a note on the desk reading-

_I am sorry, I woke one morning and the child was dead. She is buried beneath the tree in the back. _

They starred in horror at the words written on the slip of paper. Giulietta was never one to cry but she felt a hot damp tears stinging her eyes now and inescapable pain. Inigo didn't know what to say. He placed his hand on Giulietta's shoulder and wiped away her tears with the back of his other hand.

"Who was this nanny?" Inigo asked

"A… a young woman, maybe 26. I was a little worried about leaving Luc…Lucinda with her but I had to go…" She looked as if she was about to burst into another fit of tears but instead she slammed her fist on the table.

" Inigo, are you up for another bought of revenge?" Her voice shook with rage. Inigo was quite mad too, though he never met his daughter the fact he never would tore through him.

"I' would be my pleasure" He replied hoping that his confidence would sooth Giulietta.

_Tales of Giulietta and Inigo's search for the murder of their child in the next chapters to come… interested? Set an alert! ____ AND please comment, your comments give me a reason to finish these ;) _


	14. Piracy

**New and Improved September First Addition **

"Inigo… she stole everything!" Giulietta was still so shocked by the death of her daughter that this fact did not penetrate much.

"Nothing's left now, no money, no food, no clothes…" She stammered when she realized she was about to add something that would not be good on her emotions right now but she did think it. _No Lucinda! _The thought ran through head many times but she couldn't bring herself to voice it.

"We should leave… I never though' I would have to resort to this but I think we need to commi' some acts of piracy love." He winced as he surveyed what was left of the house, as Giulietta had said… nothing.

Giulietta's heart raced as she sprinted to her place behind the tavern. Inigo was inside. Their plan had been for him to steel some poor drunk fool's money bag and make off with it out the back door. Giulietta watched through a grimy, candle-lit window in the back. She couldn't see Inigo anywhere and she was beginning to get worried. She creaked open the back door feeling all too helpless and dove in through the crowd of smelly, joyful drunks. A young man spilled half a glass of ale on her as she dodged her way through soaking her hair in booze.

"Inigo!" She called but it was lost in the busy tavern. She spotted him though, sneaking under the bar. She watched closely as he expertly flicked out the six-fingured sword and sliced off a random man's full money pouch. It landed in his hand and he smiled with some satisfaction as he stashed it away. He then looked up and noticed that Giulietta, as he had suspected she would, had come in the tavern. He sighed and crawled out from under the bar and stood up, being careful not to hit his head. He signaled for her to leave and she began to obey when the man Inigo had stolen from reached for his coin pouch to buy more beer.

"Tha's no' good!" Inigo whispered to himself as the man spun around and stared straight at him.

"Run Giulietta!" he shouted to her. But she refused to leave him. Adrenaline getting the best of her she searched the room for a weapon. On the wall she saw a sword that would be perfect. She dashed over and snatched it off the wall just in time. The man had begun walking towards Inigo making him appear no more then a rail up against a tall building. Inigo unsheathed his sword and held it to the man's neck. The man was surprised but he wasn't worried because a gang of very large brutes was coming at Inigo from behind.

Giulietta spun the sword widely at the group behind Inigo but he knew they were there. He flipped his sword around from the first guy's neck and stabbed a man directly behind him in the shoulder.

"Giulietta, come here" By the time Giulietta found him he was already closer to the door then she was. Inigo was holding off some very drunk looking men while Giulietta continued her fruitless waving. She ran holding the sword straight in front of her to make a path. She had to come to a sudden stop when she found Inigo so as to not run him through.

"Drop the sword." This time she did as he asked. He effortlessly picked her up and defended with his free hand until he was out of the tavern. He set her down and sheathed his sword.

"Ok now would be a good time to run!" he noted as the men behind them were pursuing. They ran their legs off until they reached the old shack that used to be Giulietta's home. They had finally lost them.

"Do you have the money?" She asked. Inigo pulled out 3 leather pouches and jingled the contents.

"Of course!" He replied with a smile. They both were panting from the run, Giulietta harder then Inigo.

"Maybe you shoul' sit down." Inigo suggested.

"Good idea…" She nearly fainted onto the ground. Inigo caught her and she felt his strong hands around her waist as he laid her down on the floor. They held onto each other for warmth just as they had when they were young. Their breathing slowed to a normal pace as they fell asleep wrapped up in each other never letting go again.


	15. Moving On

**New and Improved OCTOBER First Addition!! (Now I'M "Moving On")**

"Giulietta, I think we better move on now" it had been 2 months since the pair had come home to a dead daughter, no money, and an empty house. Both of them had been thinking it. What with all the piracy they had to commit people were sure to find them sooner or later and that was a problem they couldn't handle right now. Inigo was the first to voice this fact though. Of course Giulietta would come up with an excuse

"Oh but Inigo love, I could never leave here. Our daughter is buried HERE. In this ground." She hadn't cried in weeks but she now felt salty tears flood her eyes and seep out onto her cheek. Inigo stepped closer to her and embraced her in a hug wiping the tears with the back of his hand.

"She will always be with us Giulietta, we do no' need to be in this house anymore. It will be better for you to get away." He was genuinely concerned but he knew a part of him was desperate for some action. Piracy was hard but it gave him little satisfaction. He once again desired revenge. Oh the perks of pirating on land where great: no chance of sinking, you got the money quicker even if it was less, and although Inigo loved the sea Giulietta had some bad memories of ships.

"If we must then…" She sighed. "let's just leave now" She didn't want to linger any longer. She could feel the tension in the Spaniard's limbs as he led her out the door holding her close to him. It was getting dark out, the light dipping behind the tall mountains and trees. The couple had no idea that someone was searching for them.

She was a young girl, all she wanted was a home again. She sat and pondered the events of the past few days as she ate stale bread from the kind baker. The girl had been homeless for months now, she didn't keep track. Her clothes had begun to tear and her shoes where very worn by now. She thought of the young man she had stayed with for a few weeks. The kindness in his gentle eyes. He was only a year or two older then her but he had a home. She would sneak in through the back door at night when the boy's parents were asleep and they never knew about her. The girl had never been in love until she met Cole, for that was his name. His eyes were the lightest blue, hair blond and messy. His body was strong and warm as they held each other in his bed. But one night she came in through the back door to find an empty house and a note on his bed.

I am sorry, we had to leave for Guilder yesterday. Please don't be mad I will be back soon. Wait for me love? I fear my parents must find out about our meetings sooner or later. I will buy you new clothes and shoes and I will stroke your hair till it's black perfection and I shall teach you to dance. I know my parents will fall in love with you as I have. Eat well, I miss you so much Lucinda.

Love, Cole.

Despite herself she crumpled the paper and tossed it to the ground. She tore at the bed the paper lay on. The clumps of lumping stuffing packed in her nails. Lucinda threw a bottle of fine black ink at the mirror. The bottle shattered along with the mirror and spilled black stains all over the floor and finely carved wood of the frame. She cringed at how much it reminded her of dried blood. She fell asleep holding onto the note as if it was life itself. She couldn't stay in Italy. She had to go to Guilder, she had to find him. Her face was streaked with tears and her hair was matted in tight knots as she made her way to the dock. It was early morning, the cool wind chilled her and she wrapped herself closer in the sheet that had covered Cole's bed. She sent the plan spinning through her mind, tried on her new life for size. She thought of how much her life had turned in such a short time. Lucinda decided to hide in the keep of a ship. She prayed she wouldn't land on a pirate ship… or worse a ship that would be pirated.

Her shoes had snapped apart when she ran through the streets towards the dock, and now she wished she had stopped to get some more because the rough wood of the newly built dock splintered and tore at her feet, leaving bloody spots along her path. She searched the waters for a suitable boat. She saw one she could not ignore. Fresh paint on the side dubbed it the "Lady" a fitting title she thought it as she examined the finely detailed sides. Her mother had taught her the importance of beauty and detail. She was an artist in her own right.

"That'll do…" She half said a loud and half to herself.

**AN- Yay! I finaly know where this story is going . more soon... very soon :D **


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